


A Chained Halla

by DaughterOfAthena



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: A different origin story, I'll update these tags as needed, Kidnapping, M/M, Mentioned/Implied Rape, Slavery, im probably going to hell, lots of abuse let's just say it up front, theres going to probably be flash backs, violence and abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-08-30 21:01:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8548975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterOfAthena/pseuds/DaughterOfAthena
Summary: Amarth stared at the fire for the longest time. He knew Zevran was staring at him.
"Will you at least give me an idea as to why you hate humans so much, my dear Warden?"
Amarth growled. "Because everything I was, should have been, could have been, was taken from me by humans. Even two of my brothers were killed because some shems wanted to make quick money. Because I lost everything to humans."---Amarth Mahariel was taken at a young age from his clan, forced to live a decade as a slave with one of his clan mates. When a plan goes wrong, leaving Amarth free of physical chains but gaining a new, tainted leash, everything he once knew must be rewritten.





	1. The Last of the Clan

**Author's Note:**

> So, in "If Only Without Magic," I gave mention to my Warden, Mahariel. Well, I figured I might as well write a story about the dear Hero of Fereldan, the one Hadiden is jealous of.   
> The idea was sudden and I'll give warning to possibly triggering chapters. For the most part, this just has abuse to it. Mainly at the end. Fair warning though, that this isn't going to be light and fluffy. You all are warned mates.

Fifteen years old. Amarth was fifteen years old, Tamlen only a year older than him. Both had been born in the spring, cared for and raised by the clan since their mothers were no longer around, and trained to protect and provide for the clan. It was when Amarth turned thirteen that he learned of what happened to his parents, knowing the truth behind why he was orphaned, to be raised by the clan. Tamlen, on the other hand, was only orphaned because of disease taking his parents. Amarth was fairly jealous of Tamlen, rather wishing his parents were taken by disease instead of grief.

Amarth, though, constantly held a reminder to the clan of their former Keeper and his beloved. Amarth had his mother's green eyes, shining gems, like when the sun passed through the leaves in the late morning in summer. His hair was the color of his father's; a dark blonde that looked like the wood of the bows that Master Ilen made. His cheeks were adored with faint freckles, only noticeable when the sun hit his cheeks just right. Amarth shared the same tone of skin as Tamlen, almost passing as the older boy's brother. One time, during a Gather of Clans, the two were mistaken as brothers!

It was on Amart's fifteen year that the clan agreed to grant him adulthood. It was Ashelle's idea that Amarth receive his vallaslin and become a full member. He was already hunting, fairly skilled with a bow, polite and could recite most of the tales of the Dales, how to tend to the halla, and a bit of crafting. It was uncommon that a Dalish received his or her vallaslin at a young age, but Ashelle thought it appropriate due to the fact of how the boy handled the loss of his parents and grew from it. 

And so it was a week later, after meditating and preparing for the ceremony, Amarth was given his vallaslin, a design dedicated to Elgar'nan. Only a portion of his face was marked, the design stopping just below his eyes. Amarth was pleased, saying the design reminded him of a mask. One day, Merrill had suggested that Amarth kept his hair long and braid it back, that way the vallaslin could be seen. Amarth liked that idea.

It was only two months later that it all changed. 

Tamlen, Amarth, and another boy named Fay had gone out to hunt. Amarth was trying to practice with his bow, along with learning to track. Tamlen was already skilled with a bow, almost showing off at times. Fay was a quiet boy and could spot an animal at least a league away. They were the perfect trio to send out on a hunt. 

Amarth had decided to go across the river, the marker that clan knew was the end of their boundaries. The boys had gone beyond the river before, finding more creatures to hunt regularly than within their boundaries. It shouldn't have been much different. They stepped lightly, avoiding open areas and watched for drops. 

It was when Amarth seen a lone shemlen that things took a turn for the worst.

His world went dark, causing the elf to struggle and thrash, trying to free himself. He tried to jerk away, but still being a child left him weaker than whoever was grabbing him, forcing him to comply. The Dalish continued to struggle and fight, but was hit against his head, knocking him unconscious for a time.

When Amarth woke up, his arms and hands were bound behind his back, his hands in a fist against the small of his back. His legs were bent up, his ankles tied together, and the rope around his legs kept him from bending them. There was a clothe stuffed into his mouth, tasting of blood and dirt. Amarth prayed to the Creators that it wasn't someone else's blood. 

A glance to his side had the blood running from Amarth's face, leaving his body cold and tingly. What lay beside him was an unconscious Tamlen, one whom in which was still breathing. Amarth was happy to see the slow rise and fall of his friend's chest. To his other side lay Fay, one who was not so lucky. Amarth watches Fay's body, hoping to see movement, to see his chest rise or fall, but the younger boy wasn't breathing. He was dead. The lifeless stare of grey eyes would haunt Amarth forever. 

Amarth wanted to thrash, to escape his bindings and to go back to the clan. One of his brothers was dead, the other unconscious, and he was at fault. He was the one to suggest leaving their boundaries, leaving the clan to hunt. He would be the one to blame when the clan figured out they were missing, when the clan would hunt to find them, and would be blamed for the clan having to move. 

Amarth fought back his own tears. He wasn't an adult. He was a child trying to pretend to be adult. He lead Tamlen into danger, got Fay killed, and had no idea what was happening to them. All he knew was that he was tied up, a wagon behind him that he was tied to, and forest in front of him. He had no clue as to who is captors were, why they wanted elves, or why they were in their forest. He lead him and his brothers into senseless danger for sake of hunting.

It was thanks to the fact that Amarth didn't start crying that he was able to over hear hushed voices speaking.

"The brown haired one wasn't compliant. He just woke up, started thrashing, called me names, and tried to bite me. Rabid knife ear."

"Claud, you could have just hit it. I don't think we'd get paid less for damaged goods. 'Long as they're alive, they're worth money."

"Even the one with the marking things? I've never seen a young one with those things."

"Oh yeah, he will go for a good price. That shit all over his face will make him a special product, meaning we can up the price. The fact that the kids don't have it means he's an adult, making him all the rarer and more silvers."

"Why just silvers? We could go for sovereigns with him."

"Claud, you brilliant man."

"Now what 'bout the other one? He don't have those markings, but he looks like the other one."

"Probably brothers. We can up his price too, make them brothers so maybe they'll go together."

"What if no one wants both of 'em?"

"Try somewhere else? I don't know. We could probably just ship them to Tevinter real quick and make good money. Those guys are always in the market for slaves."

Slaves.

They were to be sold as slaves.

Amarth stared at the ground, horrified at the thought. He was Dalish, not a slave! I would not be treated as a dog to some shemlen lord! He and Tamlen had to escape, their lives depending on it.

"I'm gonna see if one of them is awake. We best get moving before someone thinks to come findin' them," the man who's name was supposed Claud said, and Amarth could hear the rustling of leaves. The man was moving, going to look at him and Tamlen. Amarth prayed to the Creators that Tamlen continued to sleep, continued to be dead to the waking world so that he didn't have to deal with the shems.

Amarth looked up when he seen the shem move into his vision. The brute was tall, obviously muscular, and carried an axe on his hip. His leather armor made him look larger than he probably was, but he was obviously larger than Amarth. The elf looked at the features, grimacing at the scar on the man's left cheek, the brown eyes that looked like mud, and the dark brown hair that was shaved away to a bare fuzz on his head. The man was ugly.

Claud was untying part of Amarth's bindings when he seen the elf was awake; he left his hands bound but was now detached from the wagon. His ankles were still tied but given some slack to walk. His legs, though, we untied completely. This abled the elf to stand, trying to discreetly stretch his aching muscles. How long had he been unconscious?

The man tugged the elf along, said elf stumbling and fighting a bit. He wouldn't fight too much, but enough to possibly free himself. If he could get free, he could kill the shems and get Tamlen and Fay back to the clan.

But the human wasn't dealing with it, allowing Amarth to fall into the dirt and be dragged. Amarth tried to fight him, to at least get up, but was continued to be dragged. The rocks and sticks on the ground scrapped and hunt the elf's back, surely causing minor cuts and possibly bruises. Claud didn't care about him being damaged either, it seemed.

The dragging stopped suddenly, giving Amarth a chance to wiggle to stand. His attempts were aided when Claud grabbed his hand restraints and pulled him to his feet. The elf was dizzy from being yanked up suddenly that he almost didn't realize he was facing another human. This other human wasn't as ugly as Claud, but ugly none the less. His red hair was dirty, long greased locked that framed his dirt covered face. He bared yellow teeth as he smiled, which Amarth figured were rotting. His pale green eyes sent shivers up Amarth's spine. He didn't want to be anywhere near the man. 

"This one was awake?" The man asked.

"Aye, Thomas," Claud said. 

The man, Thomas, reached out to grab the gag from Amarth's mouth. Amarth twisted his head away, trying to avoid any and all contact with the shemlen if he could help it. Though, he must have taken the gesture a different way because he said, "there, that's a good pet. Already knows his who his superiors are."

Amarth glared. "No one is my superior. I-"

The elf was smacked across his cheek, stopping him from finishing his words.

"We are now. You dirty knife ears decided to come just a little too close at the wrong time and are now ours. We are your superiors and you will treat us as such."

Amarth turned his head, trying to act intimidating as he tried to growl at the human. Thomas must have thought it was a game, because he grabbed Amarth's chin, holding it painfully so that the elf wouldn't move, and growled, "act as an animal, be treated as an animal." 

Thomas looked at Claud and nodded, yanked Amarth away. The elf was taken to the wagon again, but this time, Thomas followed. Claud was untying Amarth's hands from behind his back, only to tie them to either side of the wagon. Amarth gripped the sides, looking over his shoulder to see the humans. What were they planning?

In seconds, Amarth's armor was being torn off. Daggers were cutting through the tough leather to reveal a tan cotton under shirt. It was only after the back of the cotton shirt was ripped that Amarth grasped what was about to happen. The elf shook, trying to move away and free his hands.

_No no no no no... No this can't happen.. No!_

The elf looked over his shoulder a last time to see a leather whip being handed to Thomas. Amarth held his breath, praying to the Creators. This couldn't be happening-

_Crack_

Stinging white pain flare across Amarth's back, causing him to scream out. Another crack of the air and another harsh lash across his back had Amarth's knees buckling. His body fell, only being held up by his tied hands. 

"I figured you'd be the hardest to control." Another hit, another pained yelp. "You tattooed freaks don't know when to stop." More flamed pain from another whip. "At least the other one should be easily trained. He doesn't seem to be tainted by your stupid ideas of being free men." Amarth was crying out, tears racing down his cheek at another hit. His skin had to be broken by now. 

Amarth continued to get blow after blow. He tried to count, to have some idea when the beating, the stinging white pain would stop. He almost gave up on an end until he reached twenty eight whips.

"Claud," Thomas said. "Leave it like that for a good hour. Bandage it then get them in the wagon for travel. I'll round up the other men so we can leave. I just don't want it to get infected because it wanted to be stubborn. It'll be worth some good money to someone, despite the wounds."

"Sure thing, Thomas. And if the other wakes?"

"Leave it. Just get it tied in the wagon and cover them. And make sure they're both gagged. I don't want to hear either of them."

Amarth stared at the ground, or as much of the ground as he could see. His eyes were bleeding tears, not looking to stop any time soon. His back was flaring with pain, blood dripping. He had no idea how deep the wounds were, how much blood was dripping, but could feel the sticky warm liquid running and drying on his back. He never wanted Tamlen to feel this pain, oh no. He didn't want his clan brother to feel the body aching fire, fire that made his whole body weak. Didn't want Tamlen to know the pain of having a shemlen force him into submission, taking away his pride with each crack of a whip. 

He could protect Tamlen from the beatings, from his Dalish Pride being taken. What he couldn't protect him from was the life they were about to be sent into.


	2. For You, Anything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna say it now, but there's a small part which implies rape. Here's your warning.

Humans, so many humans all around. 

As much as Amarth figured the humans claimed to be against slaves, a lot turned out to see Amarth and Tamlen on display. Amarth had been cleaned up, or at least as much as possible. His back was scarring, still pretty fresh from a recent whipping a week ago. But he wasn't covered in dirt, wearing a single cotton shirt that was draped like a dress over him, and socks. He felt pathetic.

Tamlen didn't look much better. He was losing weight, and quickly. His usually full cheeks were beginning to hallow out, making him look sick. But he hadn't been getting beats, had avoided them because Amarth had taken the fall. Tamlen didn't know that Amarth was taking his beatings, taking the lashing that should have gone to the older elf, and Amarth was completely fine with that. He got Tamlen into this mess, he would protect Tamlen.

But on display, Amarth couldn't do much to protect either of them. They had to stand and watch as Claud and Thomas, plus five other slavers, tried to sell them off.

"Ser, would you be interested in two Dalish servants? No need to pay them, seeing as the Dalish know nothing of monetary values or exchange?"

"Why no ma'am, the short one isn't sick. The Dalish paint their faces as a sign of adulthood... Why yes! He is an adult!"

"No ser, he isn't hurt by our hands. He was attacked by a wolf when we found the two, alone and fending for their lives. We saved them!"

"Brothers? Why certainly, look at them! They look so much a like. That one there is the older one; you can tell by his face markings."

Amarth and Tamlen could only watch, to await their fates. They could run, if they wanted, but a slaver was standing behind them, holding their leashes. He had heard someone ask about the rope, but Thomas had said it was so they didn't get lost.

Brave and curious children had tried to come up and mess with the tied elves, daring each other to "touch a knife ear." Of course, Thomas wasn't happy and yelled at the children to bugger off before they messed up his products. 

Once, an elven man had come running, screaming that Tamlen and Amarth should be released, that Andraste had fought to free the elves and it was illegal. Thomas was caught for a moment but regained himself by saying, "my dear man, this isn't slavery. I'm selling them as servants into fine homes that will treat them better than their own people did."

The man tried to rebuttal the statement but Thomas said, "they will be learning skills of a common man, and once their owners deem them ready, they can release them as citizens into Fereldan. This is not slavery because these boys will be servants."

Thomas then ordered Claud to escort the elven man away, leaving Tamlen and Amarth without a hope to being released. They were set to be slaves, it seemed.

A man, one who was wearing fine silken clothes and two guards at his sides approached Thomas. The man's clothes were bright and clean, making him stick out in the dirty little village. His guards gleamed in their shining armor, their swords sparkling as the sun bounced off them. Amarth got a bad feeling.

"Good man." The accent wasn't Fereldan. "Tell me, how much are you wishing for the two knife ears?"

Thomas straighten and gleamed. "Five sovereigns. Three for the painted and two for the other."

The foreign man clicked his tongue. "That much? Are they truly worth it?"

Thomas rubbed his hands together. "Oh yes, ser, they are. You see, the painted one is older, despite being shorter. It's obvious because of its painted face. You could easily train him to serve or perform. Or even, if you wished to add him for a personal guard. It may look wounded now, but I assure you, it will heal quickly. The other one could be used as kitchen staff or even a maid. It is quiet, both of them in fact, and both well behaved. I grantee you will be satisfied with them both."

Amarth felt a ball drop in the pit of his stomach. He didn't like the wealthy man, didn't like his slicked back gold hair or his bright red clothes. He didn't like his shining guards. The elf didn't like any of this.

But it seemed the man had agreed, pulling out a bag that jingled with the sound of coins. It was only seconds later that Thomas was ordering the slaver behind them to give the rope to the guards, making sure that each guard had one of the two knife ears. The wealthy man thanked Thomas and ordered the guards to ready the elves for they needed to travel his estate, that his wife would be pleased with the pretty things.

Amarth stole a glance at Tamlen and seen the same fear stricken expression he figured he had.

They were officially slaves. 

 

Lord Levius was the son of a Fereldan lord who had married an Antivan woman after the death of his third wife. When his father had died, leaving the estate to Levius, which was only a months travel from Orlais. Levius married a month after his father's death, marrying an Orlasian woman whom had a love for exotic and strange things. Levius did his best to please his wife, finding the rarities his wife adored. When his wife gave him a daughter, she didn't care for the exotic things her mother cared for. She was a somewhat reserved child, unlike either of her parents.

Tamlen was assigned to guard the daughter. Tamlen, to say the least, got the easier job of guarding Ceylon, considering she spent time in the garden and library. The only time his job was important was when the family traveled. 

Amarth was not as lucky. He was both a guard and entertainer. He was to be dolled up every night for dinner, to serve the family, bid every whim, and act pretty. Lady Jacqueline adored him, calling him a pet and bragging to her friends of the rarity her husband had found. Amarth hated it, hated serving and pretending to be a thing. When he trained with the other guards, learning to wield a sword and shield like a human, he found solace in that. He found it numbing, something to drown out what was really happening. He would have preferred his bow, to hunt in the wilds, yet took what he could get with his training. Training was also the only time he was allowed to see Tamlen before night.

They had been there for two years now. Both of them hated it.

"I think Lady Ceylon fancies you, lethallin," Tamlen said one night, both being awake past light out. They were given the smallest room, considering that they were the last to be added to the servants collection. The room was so small that they had to share the single bed. Neither boy minded it.

"Does she now?" Amarth asked. "And what does the Lord say to that?"

"I don't know. He doesn't know, I supposed." Tamlen propped up on his elbow to look down at Amarth. Amarth was simply staring at the ceiling. "She's fond of you. She told me that if you had been a human, not even a noble one, she'd ask her father to throw a ball and invite you personally. She thinks you're delightful."

Amarth snorted and rolled onto his side, away from Tamlen. "Flattered," he said without emotion. "Another shem to find us darling and take away more of what we are."

"And what are we, exactly?" Tamlen asked.

"We are supposed to be Dalish, the last of the Elvhen. We shouldn't be here," Amarth sighed. He was losing his memories of the clan. He missed Merrill's stories, her braiding his hair. He missed master Ilen, missed that he would have gotten a new bow for his birthday. He missed the Keeper and Ashelle. He missed the stories Harhen Paviel told. He could barely remember their faces.

"No, Amarth, you're Dalish," Tamlen said, causing an uneasy silence to settle between them.

"What do you mean? You're Dalish-"

"I'm not Dalish. I don't have honor markings like you do. I won't be Dalish, and I'm fine with that." Amarth was silent with Tamlen's words. He knew nothing.

"If you knew what you were saying, Tamlen, you would be ashamed," Amarth sat up, looking at the older elf in the eyes. "If you knew what happened, you wouldn't be saying that."

"Creators, Amarth, you're acting like we haven't been away from the clan in years. The clan is gone, figuring we're dead or something. This is our life, our home now. You best get used to it." With that, Tamlen was moving to lay down, his back to Amarth's back. 

Two years now... In a few months, it would be three. He would be eighteen soon enough. Tamlen was right. They were no longer Dalish. He wasn't Dalish. He was just some painted elf.

 

"Knife ear!"

Amarth looked up, not at all frighten to see Lord Levius running to him. His wife, and all her guests, were very shocked to see the angry man. Lady Jacqueline rose up to stop her husband, saying, "my dear, what has my pet done? Surely nothing seeing as it has been with me and my ladies all morning-"

"Quiet, love." Levius walked up to Amarth and grabbed his throat, almost tight enough to restrict air flow. He was in trouble.

"This knife ear raided our kitchens and stole from us. This ungrateful little creature doesn't know its manners today."

Amarth wanted to explain but didn't. The elf kept his mouth closed.

"Your pet is going to be taught a lesson, love."

Lord Levius took Amarth by the arm, turning the elf so his arm was painfully bent behind his back. He was then being shoved through the estate, being lead up a flight of stairs to the family quarters-

Oh no.

Amarth tried to fight against the lord, knowing what was to come. It had happened before, a few times for punishment and other times simply because the Lady of the estate had been gone. 

"This should teach you to use my family's hospitality again, you disgusting knife ear. If you use me, then I'll use you tenfold," Levius threatened, shoving the elf into the grand master bedroom.

Amarth felt the sting of tears, struggling against the man. "No, no please. Please no-"

"Shut up!" Amarth was smacked, harder than the usual reprimanding smack from the lady. Amarth tried to fight, but when his hands were tied and he was gagged, it was a losing war and only caused that much more pain.

When Amarth made his way into the servants' quarters that night, he only wished for a washing. He had tried to fix his braid after his punishment was over, needing to feel a little put together after the lord had yanked his braid free, but still felt gross. His legs and arms hurt, the small of his back ached. He wanted to cry, but knew better. 

The elf opened the door to his and Tamlen's room to, thankfully, find Tamlen still awake. The other elf was laying out both their clothes, preparing for the coming morning. Tamlen frowned as Amarth walked into the room but said nothing. Tamlen had never received the punishments Amarth did. Amarth figured it was because he was considered more beautiful than Tamlen, just because of the tattoo.

Amarth faked a smile and said, "I'm sorry I'm late. The Lady gave me extra kitchen duty for spilling tea this afternoon." 

"Quite all right, lethallin," Tamlen said, sounding a bit disappointed. Amarth knew how fix that. 

Amarth walked to their shared dresser and opened the top drawer, pulling out a small box. The elf sat on the bed, crossing his legs and waited for Tamlen to join him. Once the other elf was settled across from him, Amarth handed the box to his brother.

"Happy birthday, Tamlen. I hereby declare on this day, on the nineteenth passing of spring, that I grant you to be a full fledged adult." Amarth smiled as Tamlen opened the box, watching the elf smile as he pulled out three chocolate chip cookies. 

"Amarth, you didn't have to-"

"I did. You are an adult now. I could give you the markings of a true Dalish, but seeing as I don't have the ink for vallaslin, I decided cookies was enough," Amarth was smiling, feeling his heart swell at the sight of Tamlen being happy. He deserved it.

Tamlen handed one of the cookies to Amarth, causing Amarth to become confused. He tried to hand it back, but Tamlen said, "I'll have one tonight, and so will you. And we will have the third for tomorrow night and split it."

"But-"

"No buts, Amarth. I want to share with you." Tamlen took a bite of his cookie and smiled. Amarth couldn't help smiling back and taking a bite of his own cookie. It was bitter sweet, in a way, but he enjoyed it. He enjoyed seeing Tamlen happy.

When they blew out the candle for the night, Amarth didn't sleep well. He didn't sleep well for the next week, but tried to tell himself it was worth it. He had made Tamlen happy.


	3. The Eluvian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of rape and abuse again. Only briefly. No details. It's in the beginning. Fair warning.

"The ruins shouldn't be that much farther."

"Who will explore them, Father? Surely you don't plan for me or Mother to venture in with you."

"No, darling, I don't. I'll send the knife ears in, alone, to clear the way. Once cleaned out, I will go in and pick what seems to be worth anything."

Amarth stood silent and cold, emotionless. His body ached, physically from punishment and the pain of whippings. Tamlen still had yet to be punished, due to Amarth's constant need to take the blame. Now they were both being punished and sent into a ruin to look for any kind of valuables. Well, no, they were to go and clean it out of spiders, but if they found anything, Levius would want to know. Amarth wanted to find a cursed dagger so that he could sink it through Levius' heart, killing him slowly. 

Yet, the elf remained quiet. A decade of being punished and owned by Lord Levius made Amarth weary to speak out. He found that his punishments came more often than usual, that Levius tried to find more and more reasons to punish Amarth. 

The elves were ordered into the ruin, Amarth being armed with a shield and sword while Tamlen had a bow. Amarth was ordered to lead, having Tamlen pull up the rear. Amarth had no problem being the leader. It was a nice change of pace against being a dancing monkey for a bunch of random nobles. 

"I like this," Tamlen said, once they reached a leveled room at the end of the trail into the ruin. 

Amarth didn't look behind him. "The work or the ruin?" 

It was a moment, after killing a couple giant spiders, Tamlen answered with, "I like both. The spiders aren't my favorite thing, but it's a change of pace from watching over Lady Ceylon. And I like the ruins. There's something about them..."

Amarth rolled his eyes at the name of the daughter of their owner. "I like it too. Like being off my leash for a bit."

"Amarth, I don't understand-"

"Of course you don't, Tamlen!" Amarth shouted, dropping his weapon and shield. "You're going to say that life under Lord Levius is pleasant, that you don't understand why I'm complaining so much about our slave lives. You're going to say that we have decent lives, that being Dalish means nothing, but you don't understand anything, Tamlen."

Amarth was angry, his fists clutched to his shirt. He wasn't going to hit Tamlen, he wasn't. He didn't want to hurt Tamlen. He loved him.

"Well, explain then, Amarth. You've been grouchy for months now, since we've traveling here." Tamlen was crossing his arms, waiting.

Amarth wanted to yank his hair out. "I've been tortured, starved, raped and beaten because of this! Because we've been sold as slaves! I'm scarred and bruised, used and abused because Lord Levius bought us. You've had it easy because your face isn't marked up, because I take the blame for every problem in the estate because I got us into this mess!" Amarth was fighting tears, fighting to look at Tamlen. "I ruined our lives, your life. You should have became a full adult, gotten your vallaslin, and we should have been hunters. We shouldn't be slaves."

Amarth wiped his cheek, hating the tears that escaped. Tamlen was in front of him, cupping Amarth's cheeks in his hand. Calloused hands, hands meant to be hunting, not protecting a shemlen girl. Those were hands meant to be finding a bride, a Dalish girl to marry and bond with. Those were the hands of a Dalish, not a slave.

"Amarth, I love you," Tamlen said quietly. "I... Why didn't...?"

"Why didn't I tell you? Because, it wasn't your fault. You shouldn't have been punished for my mistakes. I love you too much for you to feel the pain of what has happened. You deserve more."

The elves were quiet, Tamlen moving his hands from Amarth's face to hug the other man. Amarth stiffened, the scars on his back stinging, but didn't move. He didn't want Tamlen to let go quite yet. But when enough moments passed, the older elf let go of Amarth and said, "We should probably finish cleaning out this place. Lord Levius won't be happy if we take too long."

"Of course. Let's go."

 

A statue to a Creator made Amarth feel better about the ruins, but when skeletons started attacking, he figured that the Creators were being assholes now and just torturing him more. When they cleaned out the last room, the room with the demon bear, Amarth just wished that Lord Levius had come down into the ruins. Maybe if the demon bear had attacked Levius, maybe they could have escaped.

But behind the bear was a mirror. To say the least, the mirror was memorizing. It was definitely something that Levius' wife would have wanted, considered even Orlais had nothing like it.

Tamlen was the first to approach the mirror. "Beautiful, isn't it? How do you think it managed to stay intact down here?"

Amarth shook his head. "I have no idea. Maybe that bear thing was protecting it?"

"Maybe..." Tamlen was staring at the mirror. Amarth stepped behind the older elf, but felt nauseous being so close to it. "I don't like it though, Tamlen. I don't think we should be near it."

"But, Amarth, I just want to look at it. Wait!" Tamlen reached out, touching the glass. Amarth thought the temperature dropped. "I just saw... Oh my...! I can see a city. It looks, looks like it's made of a black gem. Wait! What's that?"

Amarth grabbed Tamlen's shoulder. "Tamlen, Tamlen get away from the mirror. I don't-"

"Lethallin, be quiet a moment."

Amarth wanted to protest but silenced. Orders, no matter who they were given by, were orders. It was when Tamlen said, "wait, I think it saw me," that Amarth began to worry. 

"Amarth, Amarth it saw me... Help! I-I can't look away! Amarth, please!"

"Tamlen!"

A burst of white light, a icy burst that sent Amarth flying back, made Amarth black out completely. His world was turned black and faded.

 

"What...! Knife ear, stop!" 

"Pet!"

A dream. It was a dream. Lord Levius' family was afraid. They were screaming. Was that a dagger through Levius' heart? Lady Jacqueline had a jelly stain on her dress. Ceylon was crying then was quiet.

 

The forest looked so pretty, even with the blackened thorn bushes tangling around trees. A few leaves fell, laying in a few feet in front of him. The sky, the blue sky looked so beautiful. It was like the blue color of one of his blue work shirts that Lady Jacqueline had gotten him to wear once. 

Then there was a face, a shemlen man. He had a beard, not a long one, and big nose. He was saying something, but Amarth couldn't hear it. His lips moved, then his vision moved to see more trees.

Then blackness.

 

Amarth's head hurt, a pounding feeling that he had had before, but this was worse. It felt as if a stone was being pounding on his skull.

The curved wooden ceiling told Amarth that he wasn't with Levius or in the ruins anymore. He could hear voices, fuzzy at first then clearer.

"How long?"

"Three days. The shemlen says he found him in the first and said he looked Dalish. I've never seen the man before, but he has vallaslin. Elgar'nan design."

"Maybe he's from a different clan?"

"I don't know. The Keeper wants to speak with him once he's awake."

Amarth sat up, the world spinning as he righted himself up. A Keeper? The word, it meant something to him, but his brain felt like mush. But the elf found himself slowly getting up, wobbling for a moment before getting out of the wooden room. 

The sunlight blinded Amarth, causing him to nearly fall down a small set of stairs. When he turned to see where he had been sleeping, he realized it was an aravel. The word was foreign, something he could have sworn he recalled, but couldn't remember. Maybe Lady Ceylon had read it in a book and told Tamlen, which Tamlen later told Amarth?

An blonde elf turned to look at Amarth, looking just as surprised as Amarth felt. He hadn't expected another elf.

"Oh! Aneth ara, lethallin. I see you're awake now," the blonde elf was smiling. His vallaslin looked like a bow, his amor made of leather. He didn't look like one of Levius' guards in their shining silver armor. Amarth liked the leather.

"Aneth wha...?" Amarth choked out the words slowly then coughed, getting a lump out of his throat. "I... Yes, I'm awake. Where am I? Where is Lord Levius?" 

"Lord Levius?" The elf asked. "I don't know who that is. We're pretty far east of Lothering. Soon we'll be heading north to Kirkwall, but that won't be for another month."

Lothering? That was... East of the estate, but kind of close to where the ruins were. As much as he didn't want to return to Levius, he should. He didn't want another punishment from his owner.

"If you don't mind, our Keeper wanted to speak with you once you awoke. Wait here please, lethallin." And with that, the blonde elf was running off. 

Amarth had a moment look just glance at where he was. It was a camp, with quite a few aravels forming a boundary for the elves gathered. To his left, Amarth could see a fire and people surrounding it. A few of them glanced back, whispering to one another as they seem Amarth. The elf felt awkward for a moment as he realized that they must have been whispering about him.

Amarth was about to go and speak with them, to figure out more about where he was, the blonde elf and an older woman approached him. The design on the woman's face was complicated and detailed. It looked familiar, like off of a painting he has seen.

"Aneth ara, da'len. It is good to see you awake," the older woman said. The blonde elf went running off, leaving Amarth and the woman alone.

"Uh.. Yes? I'm curious as to where I am," Amarth said, realizing he might have been acting rude, but he had to get back. He didn't want another punishment because these people kidnapped him.

"You are with a clan of Dalish. A shemlen man brought you here three days ago. Do you not remember?"

The elf looked down. He didn't remember much, not what happened after him and Tamlen had entered a ruin. But he had to find Levius, had to make sure Tamlen wasn't punished for him getting taken away.

"No, just a ruin. My brother and I had entered it because Levius ordered us to... and I don't remember after that. Where is the shem? Maybe he is Levius?"

The older woman shook her head. "He introduced himself as Duncan of the Grey Wardens. I do not believe him to who ever Levius is." 

Amarth's shoulders slumped. If the shem wasn't Levius, then how was he going to get back to his owner?

"Tell me, da'len, how do you feel? Would you be willing to go back out to the ruin? My First told me that the shem said that it looked elven, and I would feel much more comfortable in knowing that she went with you. Maybe you will find your brother and Levius there."

Amarth considered the idea. He would be helping out who ever these people were and possibly finding his way back to Tamlen and Levius. Maybe then he wouldn't be punished.

"I can do that. Who is your First, if I may ask?" Amarth asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Her name is Merrill," the older woman said. Amarth felt cold when the name was spoken.

No, he couldn't...

"Merrill... Little Merrill? With black hair with tiny braids in her hair? And big green eyes?" Amarth asked, voice quiet. The elven woman nodded. "Yes, that's Merrill. I suppose you've seen her at a Gather of Clans then?"

Amarth felt tears forming in his eyes. The woman in front of him was the Keeper, Keeper Marethari. The man in the center of the whispering group of people must have been the Harhen. The man cried, realizing that after a decade that he was back to the clan he was taken from. 

It seemed that his sudden tears worried Marethari because she was asking him something, something he couldn't quite hear. His ear were ringing from his sudden realization. 

When the tears slowed, giving Amarth a moment to breathe, the elf said, "Keeper Marethari, it's me, Amarth Mahariel."

It was as if his last name, a last name that meant nothing for so long, suddenly put the clan to silence. Even the birds stopped chirping at the sound of his name being spoken.

"Amarth?" Marethari said, cupping the man's face. He was twenty five now, no longer a child, but he must have been by the way she was cradling his face. Or he might have been a ghost, because she looked as though she was seeing an appreciation. He couldn't be alive. He was missing for ten years. He should have been dead. 

"Da'len... By the Creators you're alive. We thought," she paused. Amarth could see tears forming. "We held a service for you, Fay, and Tamlen. None of our hunters could find you children, and they found no trace. How?"

Amarth wiped his own tears. "We... We were taken by shemlen and... And sold as slaves. They killed Fay before we were sold, but Tamlen and I were sold together. Our owner took us to a ruin and... And that's how we ended up here. Was Tamlen found by the shem?" When the Keeper shook her head, Amarth frowned. "He must still be in the ruins. I can go back."

Marethari nodded, still looking as though Amarth was a ghost and said, "then wait here. I will get Merrill and you two can set off to the ruins."


	4. Going Back to the Roots

Merrill wouldn't stop staring at Amarth. He couldn't blame her for staring; he would be staring at himself too if he had suddenly returned from the dead. Honestly, he was staring at her just as much as she was staring at him. The little girl he remembered, the shy and awkward girl that could recite every story that Marethari had told her. The little girl that wouldn't leave the Keeper's side once her magic surfaced. The girl that braided Amarth's hair any time he asked, putting flowers in between the braids because it looked cute. That little girl was gone.

This new Merrill, the grown up Merrill, walked with confidence and sureness. Her spells were stronger, much like her confidence and pride. Her baby cheeks filled out, leaving her with a delicate round face that made her look like a woman. Her vallaslin decorated her face, outlining cheek bones and soft features. Her short hair had little pieces tied off from the rest of her hair, like she did when she was younger. Merrill wasn't a little kid anymore. Neither was he.

"Lethallin..." Amarth looked at the young woman, raising an eyebrow. It was the first time she had spoken since leaving the camp.

Before leaving the camp, Master Ilen had given him new clothes, amor, and daggers. Amarth might have preferred a shield and sword, but figured that the daggers wouldn't be that much harder. But Amarth nearly cried when he was given the leathers of his clan, remembering for a moment the amor and clothes that were ruined thanks to Claud and Thomas. Ilen had promised Amarth to make better fitting amor once he returned because he would be shamed to let the man come back after a decade and not treated as the survivor that he was. Amarth asked if Tamlen would receive the same treatment, and Ilen said he would. But it was at camp that Amarth noticed Merrill's staring.

"Something wrong, Merrill?" He asked, realizing that he didn't have the accent that Merrill had, the one he lost. It almost sounded Orlasian, or faintly like Levius' Antivan accent. Amarth hated it.

"How did... What did...?" Merrill sputtered, obviously nervous. There was so much mystery to him, to his return, to his living. 

Amarth looked down then looked at Merrill. Her giant green eyes made his heart hurt. 

"Tamlen, Fay, and I all went to hunt. We were reckless and didn't think twice about the boundaries. We went past them and shemlen attacked us. They... They killed Fay before I woke up, but when I did, I learned that we would be sold as slaves. I wasn't treated very well, even when Tamlen and I were sold. The shem who bought us wasn't any nicer to me. He gave Tamlen simple work and just... I hated it. When we came here to clean out the ruins, I was hesitant to escape. I wanted to, but Tamlen would never go. I wasn't going to leave him. I won't leave him now."

Silence passed between the two. It had to be nearly five minutes before Merrill spoke up.

"But there had to be some good humans, right Amarth? They aren't all bad. Creators, I'm curious myself-"

Amarth growled. "No, they're all bad. They'll say they're against slaves and then buy them. They will treat their slaves as objects or dogs."

"How? What could they-"

"Everything, Merrill, everything," Amarth growled again. He was acting like... Like... 

An animal.

"You don't know what they do. They... They whipped me, raped me, used me as an object to be on display every night. I was denied food more often than I can recall. A few times I wasn't allowed to sleep, being forced to work until the morning. There was a reason our ancestors rebelled against being slaves and I see it now." Amarth wasn't looking at Merrill anymore. Too long had he been a pet, a toy for Levius and his family. For too long was he treated as nothing but a rabid animal. Merrill would never understand, would never know how it felt to be him for those ten years. Humans wanted nothing but to take whatever power the elves had. Amarth hated them.

Merrill's hand was rubbing Amarth's arm slowly. At first, the man had flinched away but then settled, letting the woman show her affection. He thought her heart was bleeding with love as she tried to comfort him. 

"Amarth, lethallin, I'm... I have no words. Ir abelas," she said, speaking quietly. Amarth shook his head. "Speak common tongue. I don't understand that tongue anymore." 

His roots were gone, nearly dug up completely. The only thing he had left of his past was his vallaslin. Maybe he could remake his life once he found Tamlen and was able to stay with the clan again.

 

If evil could be described as a person, it would look something like darkspawn. The twisted dark creatures smelled of death, looked as though their flesh was rotting and burned all at once. Their yellow fangs look like the teeth of wolves, but looked like they were rotting. The blood that leaked from the dead ones was as black as the night sky. It made Amarth sick.

As the two wandered through the ruins, Amarth trying to remember the path, silence remained between them. Amarth refused to talk more. He didn't know if it was because he was punished for speaking out of turn or if he had nothing to say. He didn't know why Merrill didn't speak, but figured she was ashamed for asking him questions he didn't want to answer and speaking in Elvish. He wanted to apologize for his reactions but couldn't. Maybe later.

The spiders that were there when he and Tamlen had gone through were still there. The rotting dead bodies smelled like death, but the smell was masked by the smell of darkspawn. Amarth was almost tempted to flee out of the ruins to get some fresh air, but decided against it. He had to find Tamlen, and find him before Levius found him. If Levius found either one of them by themselves, found Amarth with Merrill, the three of them would not by in good shape. Especially Amarth.

"It's... It's beautiful down here. Is that Elvish on the wall? Oh! Look at that statue, Amarth!" For the first time in a while, Merrill spoke up. Amarth smiled a little, a half smile, seeing Merrill be as curious as he remembered her. He watched as she ran to a wall and ran her hand against the carvings before scurrying over to the statue that Tamlen had stopped in front of. The man crossed his arms.

"Tamlen said it looked like one of the Creators. I can't tell who it is, nor can I remember half of their names anymore. Would the Keeper know?" Amarth was standing beside the woman. She seemed memorized by the statue.

"Possibly. I can't tell who it is. Maybe Mythal or June. Do you think that the elves used to live in caves like these, lethallin?" 

Amarth shook his head. "I doubt they did. Let's keep going. We need to find some kind of trail to find Tamlen, and quickly. I don't want Levius to find him or us. "

The last room to check was where the mirror had been. If anything, Amarth figured that Tamlen would be there. There was no other place in the ruins for Tamlen to hide. But that also meant that Levius could be there too. Amarth didn't want to find Levius, especially with Merrill with him, but he had to find Tamlen.

It came as a surprise to find a shemlen in front of the mirror. The man wasn't Levius, but he was human, dropping the hope that Tamlen was in the room. But the shem didn't turn around for Amarth or Merrill. He was just simply staring at the mirror, focused and memorized by it. Amarth almost moved for a dagger when the man moved, turning to look at the two elves. His beard looked like one he had seen in a dream, like a faint memory that was just barely out of reach. The man's nose was large, a focus point that Amarth was trying to ignore. Where had he seen the man?

"Anetha ara, Duncan of the Grey Wardens. The Keeper didn't tell me you would be here," Merrill said, as bubbly as ever. This was the Grey Warden that Keeper had mentioned? He didn't look like a Grey Warden, but Amarth didn't even know what a Grey Warden should look like.

"Hello Merrill. I was unaware of you coming here. And I see that the young man that I had found is awake," Duncan said, turning his attention to Amarth. The elf wanted to straighten up, to square up to the human so he knew that he would not be forced to submit again. But Amarth didn't. He stood there and simply glared.

Merrill sighed. "Indeed, he is. This is Amarth Mahariel. He belongs to our clan and was taken from us many years ago, along with our clan mate Tamlen. Have you seen Tamlen?" 

Duncan was still staring at Amarth, sudden shock on his features. The shem stepped down away from the mirror to stand a bit closer to the two elves. Amarth took a step back when he felt Duncan was too close and almost regretted it. Levius would have him whipped for the action.

"Amarth, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. Last we meet, you were delirious with fever," Duncan offered a hand but took it back when Amarth didn't return it. "If you don't mind my asking," Duncan started, "but how were you separated from your clan?"

Amarth looked at the ground then back up, crossing his arms. "A group of shems kidnapped me and two of my clan brothers. They killed one of us and let Tamlen and me live. We were sold as slaves. That was a decade ago."

Duncan's features dropped, his brow knitting together as he frowned. Amarth swore it was a false sign of sympathy, of pity. Yet, Duncan said, "You have my deepest apologies, Amarth."

"I don't need sympathy, Duncan. I would like to find Tamlen and to know where Lord Levius is," Amarth said, reverting back to when he was fifteen and a fresh slave. His brother and his Lord were the only concerns.

Duncan shook his head. "Then I have some troubling news for you then." There was a pause before the Warden said, "I found a caravan a day before I found you. There were slaughtered bodies, a woman, a man, a child, and a bann of guards. I suppose that the man was your previous owner since when I found you, you were covered in much blood."

Amarth's eyes went wide. Flashes, momentary flashes clouded his vision. He couldn't... He didn't... 

He killed them?

"As for Tamlen," the shem continued. "If he was here with you when you two discovered the mirror, then it is unfortunate but he is no longer here."

"No longer here? What do you mean, Duncan?" Merrill asked, her voice as small as a child's. Amarth knew what it meant.

"Meaning that he went mad and fled into the forest, or the darkspawn took him."

There was silence between the three of them before Amarth whispered, "destroy the damned thing."

"What?" Merrill shouted, looked right at Amarth. The former slave didn't move. "Amarth, think of all we could learn from-"

"I said destroy it!" He shouted. "That thing took away the one person I had to hold onto, to get me through the torment, and now he's gone! Destroy it before it hurts anyone else!"

Before Merrill could offer a counter argument to Amarth, Duncan did as Amarth wished. The Warden turned towards the mirror, drawing one of his swords and slammed it into the mirror. As the pieces shattered, falling to the ground and breaking into smaller pieces, a cold chill passed through the ruins. Amarth didn't care. He hated that mirror. It took the last remainder of hope he had. How was he supposed to continue now? He thought he and Tamlen were free, free to return to their clan and to start anew. But Tamlen was gone.

To bring Amarth out of his daze, Duncan had started to wave a hand in front of the elf. The elf jumped in surprise and fear and stares at Duncan, eyes wide. The man frowned. "As if this already wasn't bad enough for you, I must speak to your Keeper about you, Amarth."

"Why? Aren't I free now?" Amarth asked. With Levius dead, he was... free. Duncan didn't have to discuss anything with Marethari.

"You are a free man," Duncan started. "But, if you take a moment to look in yourself, you know you are sick. I know of the cure but I would like to speak with your Keeper. You are of this Dalish clan, and I would like her permission before jeopardizing one of her members."

The former slave turned on his heels, heading towards the exit. 

"Let's go then. I don't want to be here anymore." Amarth didn't speak the rest of the way back to the clan. He didn't know if it was out of grief or anger.


	5. Farewell to the Past

"Da'len, go to Harhen Paviel and ask him to prepare a service for Tamlen. This time, we will honor the dead knowing that they are no longer with us."

"As you wish, Marethari," Amarth said, turning away to leave the Keeper to speak with the shemlen. Merrill said she was going to stay with Marethari. Amarth didn't care.

When he found the Harhen, the man looked worn beyond his years. He couldn't remember the man in the slightest, but knew that he had told him stories when he was a child. 

"So the stranger has returned. Tell me, did you find the ruins to show our First?" Paviel asked. Amarth shifted his weight. The story teller didn't remember him.

"Uh, yes. We found the ruins. Keeper Marethari asked if you could prepare a service for Tamlen." Amarth waited for an answer, but the Harhen was silent. Had he said something wrong?

"Tamlen... I haven't heard that name for quite some time, but the Keeper knows that we already held a service for him, along with our other lost boys, Fay and Amarth."

The man sighed then looked at the Harhen. Did he look different? Why was he a stranger to his clan? "Harhen," he said. "We didn't die. We were kidnapped. Fay was killed, but Tamlen and I were sold as slaves ten years ago."

The other elves gathered around went silent. They were listening to every word that Amarth was saying. The Harhen was stunned silent before whispering, "Amarth? By the Creators, da'len. You live... You're alive, da'len!" Exclamation was followed by the Harhen cupping Amarth's face, studying the man. The elf wanted to move away, to avoid being touched, but suffered through the touching. The Harhen turn his head from side to side, up then down, and when Amarth could see his face again, it looked as if the older man was going to cry. 

"Though, it seems I shouldn't be calling you da'len anymore. You are no longer a child now, are you?" The Harhen asked. Amarth's face was released, and he shook his head. "No, I'm not longer a child."

"Yet," the Harhen starts, "while we have one of our own back, we still have lost two. But, I will do as the Keeper wishes, to hold another service for Tamlen." Amarth sighed and thanked the older elf. He also promised to tell a bit of what happened to him and Tamlen that night, piquing the curiosity of those nearby. 

Amarth was beginning to walk away from the Harhen, to find the Keeper, when an older woman came running up to. The elf had to stop, look the woman up and down, but still didn't know who she was. She was practically in tears.

"Da'len! By the Creators, I thought they were lying when I heard you were alive. My child, look at you, all grown up," the woman rattled on. Amarth stared at her, confused. 

"Who," he started, "are you? I'm sorry, but my memory isn't very good and everything is just overwhelming me." Amarth shifted his weight, finding himself looking at the ground before the woman. The Elven woman stopped, stunned silent. A fear tears rolled over her cheek, which made Amarth feel horrible, but he didn't move. 

"Amarth, dear, it's me, Ashelle. I raised you before..." Her trail on her words told Amarth enough of what she meant. It still didn't completely connect that this woman was the woman from his faded memories, but Amarth accepted it. From what he could tell, she had the same vallaslin as the woman in his memories.

The elf tried to smile, feeling out of place, saying, "I'm sorry, I just... I didn't recognize you. I'm glad you're well, Ashelle."

Ashelle smiled, but she didn't reach out and touch Amarth, unlike Harhen Paviel. Instead, she wiped away her tears and said, "it's quite all right, da'len. Now that you are back, you will relearn the clan. The clan is still your home."

 

When Amarth had approached the Keeper and the shem, he hadn't expected grim looks. They both looked as they were watching a dead man walk in Amarth's place. Their looks should have told Amarth everything.

"Da'len, come. We have much to discuss with you," Keeper Marethari said. Amarth nodded and stood beside her, keeping his distance from Duncan. He didn't trust the shem, no matter what order he was from. 

But, instead of the Keeper explaining the situation, Duncan did.

"The mirror you and your clan mate encountered was magical, but had broken quite a many years ago. From this, it was tainted with the same sickness as the darkspawn," he started. Amarth cut in and asked, "like the Blight? Does that mean I have the Blight?" With Duncan's nod, he continued.

"You indeed have the Blight. But my order, the Grey Wardens, are looking for recruits. I had originally come to your clan looking for one, and I would like to offer you a place within our ranks." Duncan straightened his back a little, which made Amarth feel small. He didn't know what to say.

"Why would I want to join the Wardens?" He asked. "What does joining you have to do with my Blight sickness?"

"It's not just about your sickness. I am in need of a recruit, and our Joining involves a way to slow the Blight down from killing you quickly." Duncan paused a moment. "I do not do this out of the kindness of my heart. I am offering this because we both have something to offer that will help one another."

For the first time, Amarth had a choice. He could stay with the clan, but let the Blight kill him. Or, he could leave with Duncan and slow his sickness down. The elf looked at the human, wanting to push a dagger through him rather than talk civilly.

"Would I be able to return to my clan?" He asked, feeling like a child.

When Duncan shook his head, Amarth almost didn't hear the answer.

"You will mostly likely never return. I am sorry."

Amarth wanted to scream, to cry, to... Something! He had just returned home to his clan, to the life he was yanked from a decade ago, only to be taken away ago. The tears forming didn't overflow, not even when Keeper Marathari placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "Amarth, please go with Duncan. While this is sudden, your returning, we would rather know that you are living out there rather than to watch you die from sickness. I know you don't like it, but it is the best hope to you living longer than you would here." 

Amarth nodded before looking at Duncan, tears still in his eyes. "All right, I will join the Wardens, on one condition." When Duncan nodded, Amarth said, "I wish to stay for the service for Tamlen."

"As you wish, but afterwards, we must leave. We have a long journey." 

 

Amarth could barely remember the service, even after it had happened. His head was not with him. Everything was happening, yet nothing was happening. In his head, it was all a dream. He would wake up, Tamlen and Levius would still be alive, and his clan would still believe that they died years ago. But deep down, Amarth knew it wasn't a dream. He was really leaving his clan again, this time by choice, and going into a world dominated by shems.

And he really didn't like Duncan.

The shem wasn't acting like a shem, which pissed Amarth off. He expected him to tie the elf up, to force him to follow like an animal, to beat him anytime her spoke without being spoken to. He expected everything he thought a shem would do, but didn't. Amarth hated him for it. 

It was when Amarth had slipped off his armor and cotton shirt that the shem was interested in the elf's doings.

"I'm just checking my bandages," Amarth said, folding his shirt on top of the armor. He didn't know why he did that, but it seemed like it was a habit. He did the same thing for Levius' clothes.

"Your bandages?" Duncan asked, his brows furrowing and frowning. Amarth rolled his eyes as he slowly unwrapped the bandages around his torso. It hurt, hell it almost hurt as much as getting the whipping wounds again, but it was tolerable. He'd gone a decade being whipped for offenses to Levius, so it was bearable.

It was when the bandages were off that Amarth realized that he wouldn't be able to wrap himself up again. Usually, he had a maid quickly bandage him up, not wanting Tamlen to see the wounds. Now, he had no one to help him-

Amarth almost reached for one of his daggers when Duncan moved. The elf didn't like it when the human kneeled down behind him, obviously looking over the wounds. 

"Maker, how did this happen?" He asked.

Amarth snorted. "I was a slave, and a poorly treated one at that. Lord Levius really liked his whip."

There was silence between them before Duncan said, "I do not wish to overstep your boundaries, but these need to be attended to. I could clean them and bandage you."

Amarth didn't want Duncan anywhere near his body, specifically his back. He wanted to kick the shem and tell him to fuck off, but didn't. He simply nodded and let the human tend to his wounds.

It was more than just surprising to Amarth when Duncan began treating his back. There was no sharp movements, no misplaced hands, and it was gentle. The smell of elfroot calmed the elf, gritting against the slight sting, but holding through it. Once the shem was wrapping the bandage around his torso, Amarth relaxed. Duncan moved away from him completely once he was finished, giving Amarth the space he wanted. The elf pulled on his cotton shirt and slowly started to buckle back on his armor.

A glance over at Duncan let Amarth see a map and tiny statues to go on it. The elf frowned. "What's that?" He asked.

"It's a map," Duncan said, not looking up. "I'm trying to see far it will be until we reach Ostagar. By the looks of it, it might be nearly a month before we get back." 

Amarth didn't like the sound of that. "A month?" He asked. "Won't the Blight sickness have killed me by then?"

Duncan shook his head. "Your Keeper's magic has slowed it down a bit. It won't last, hence our need for a speedy journey. Though, it's a day out of our route, but if we were to stop at a nearby village and buy horses, I could imagine that we could reach Ostagar sooner."

Amarth didn't move from his spot, even though he really wanted to see the map. The shem smiled a moment then said, "why don't you rest for a night? You must be horribly tired from the day's events. I will keep watch for the first part of the night."

The elf nodded and asked, "and I'll take second watch?" Duncan nodded. A pattern, one that was innate in him, buried for years. He knew what was happening. He would sleep, Duncan would wake him, he'd watch their small camp, then they would pack and leave by dawn. Amarth left his amor on and rolled out his blanket, one given to him by his clan. He laid down, his back to Duncan. 

It wasn't long before Amarth was asleep.


	6. Maybe Not So Bad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like I said in the most recent update of If Only Without Magic, all my chapters were deleted. Some things are easier to redo (i.e. Car Radio), but long chapters have disappeared, along with an AU I was starting.  
> So yeah.

"Again!"

Amarth was sweaty, angry, and ready to quit, but he didn't. He would break Duncan's defense. The two were at least four days from Otsagar, but they were taking a break to teach Amarth a bit more to fighting. His training with Lord Levius taught him a lot of blocking with a shield and a sword, but Duncan offered a long sword and a dagger. Amarth liked the balance of the two swords. He also liked the deadliness of wielding two blade. The power was something he had lacked for so many years.

And Duncan, as much as the elf wanted to hate the shem, was willing to teach. He pointed out that Amarth was taught mostly defense, meaning he really needed to build with attacking. 

_"Why are you giving me this?" Amarth had asked, holding the long sword in his hand. The daggers that his clan had given him as a parting gift laid forgotten for a moment._

_"I have no doubt that you are capable of fighting," Duncan had said. "But I need to be sure you're trained in more than fending for another. Wardens do more than protect."_

He had shown Amarth how to treat the sword, sharpening the blade and cleaning it. Amarth had never considered the need to care for his weapons considering he was never given his _own_ until now. Once the basics of care was over, Duncan insisted on practicing their use. 

It was the third day of their practice and Amarth would break the shem's defense if it was the last thing he would do. He was sick, truly feeling it now. His sweat wasn't just from the sword practice. It was as Duncan said; Marethari's magic kept the Blight from killing him while he was with her, but once his treatment was over, it began to slowly kill him. His muscles constantly ached, and his dreams kept getting foggier and more terrifying. He knew that if they didn't get to the Warden stronghold soon, then the sickness would catch him and take him. But Duncan almost refused to let Amarth join the Grey Wardens if he couldn't break his defense.

Amarth focused his whole attention to Duncan's blades, trying to figure a weak point. From his attempts, there were none, but...

But if he surprised Duncan, then he could throw the man off guard and break his stance. 

Couldn't he?

In a final attempt, throwing his weight into it, Amarth charged towards Duncan. The shem had seen it before; a crazed charge without tactic. But Amarth would get him, he had to. He wasn't too close to Duncan when he slid down to the ground, his blades tucked close but not close enough to harm him. Duncan was surprised, guessing from the way he side stepped away from the elf as said elf attempted to slide between his feet. When Amarth stood up again, directly behind Duncan, the elf pressed the dagger to the shem's throat, leaving the long sword to his side. Amarth didn't add pressure. He didn't want to kill the human, just surprise him. A few heart beats went by before one of them spoke.

"I don't think that quite counts as breaking my defense, Amarth." The elf lowered his blades, letting Duncan face him. He was panting, worn out. The Blight was making him weak.

"I think it does," Amarth said. "It surprised you and left you at my blades' mercy."

"As that may be, you still need to learn to break a defense from the frontal attack," Duncan said, looking serious. Suddenly, his demeanor changed. "But, I think that's all the practice we can get to for the night. I think you deserve a break."

Amarth huffed, not really wanting to stop. The fighting, the practice, it was mind numbing. It let Amarth forget what was behind him and only think of the present. He was running, he knew it. Running from a past he had long been chasing. It was amazing that for a decade he had dreamed of how he would be reunited with his clan, having Tamlen at his side and being welcomed back home. They would have to keep some of acts quiet, knowing that if Lord Levius didn't condone it, then the clan wouldn't. But they would make it. They would find bondeds and have children. Amarth had been looking forward to growing old with his clan once he was back with them and away from Levius. But now, all that was yanked away from him. No kids, no Tamlen, no wife, and no clan. He was left with what he had with him and the training he was being presented with.

He was running from all the pain.

Amarth simply nodded and sheathed his blades. The elf made for his bedroll and sighed, his muscles tight from their work and the Blight. When he was comfortable, the elf untied his braid to let his hair down, shaking it free of pebbles and grass. He would need to clean it sooner or later, preferably before making it to the stronghold. 

_"Sweet Pet, you must look your best for the guests. You would frighten them terribly if you looked like a dirty wanderer."_

Amarth's eyes started to sting at the ghostly voice in his head. It wasn't long before he was tying his hair back again, carefully twisting it back into a braid. It seemed that Duncan had something to say, because once the elf was finished with his hair, the human started to speak.

"You're improving since we started," he said. "Before, you were hardly able to perform any sort of attack."

"I wasn't trained with dual blades," Amarth added. Duncan nodded.

"Which is why it's impressive you've made the strides you have without prior knowledge to using them. And from what I seen today, I wouldn't be surprised if you looked into specialities of being a rogue." Duncan had his long sword out, running a stone over it to sharpen the blade.

"Like what?" Amarth asked. As much as he wanted to hate Duncan, he didn't mind the man so much. He was treating him with respect, giving him time and space, and offering to teach him. He even told Amarth he could leave if he wanted. Amarth stayed, wanting to live even if it meant being bound to an order.

Duncan smiled. "I wouldn't be able to teach it, but there are those trained as bards, the infamous spies of Orlais. There are also assassins. A few of the Wardens know such skills and would honored to pass their knowledge to you. There's a few other classes you could learn of, but I do not know them. There's far too many to know besides the most common ones."

Amarth nodded. The idea of being an assassin didn't sound too bad, nor did a spy. Or at least having the talents for them. Whatever he decided to do with his training was up to him. That was the nicest part of it. 

The silence was growing before Duncan said, "why don't you rest for the evening? I'll wake you for your shift."

"Of course," Amarth muttered as he slowly got comfortable on his bedroll. It wouldn't be long until they reached Ostagar.

 

Ostagar was ruined but beautiful none the less. The towers, the ones still standing despite the years, scraped the sky. The walls were etched with skill, and the worst part was that Amarth liked it all. The ruins were originally ancient Tevinter, and anything Tevinter set him on edge. It was the slave thing, he knew it deep down, but wouldn't admit it.

As the two men walked into the fortress, Amarth was too busy looking at the structure to see an on coming group. It was the rattling of armor that brought Amarth's attention to the men.

"Ho there Duncan!" The man in the gold armor exclaimed. The elf looked at his Warden companion, confused. The older man looked surprised before bowing towards the shiny man.

But the Warden straightened up and clasped the gold man's hand, smiling. "King Cailan, what a surprise. I hadn't thought-"

"That you would be greeted with the royal welcome?" The gold man was a king? The term hardly meant anything to Amarth, but it didn't go without saying that he knew he was important. Lord Levius had had him at the estate at one point.

"And who is this?" King Cailan asked, turning his attention to Amarth. The elf grimaced at the man, furrowing his brows at the man as though he personally offended him. Powerful shems were his least favorite.

Duncan sighed before saying, "the Warden's newest recruit, your Highness."

Amarth didn't say anything. Cailan was smiling though. "A pleasure, my friend. Might I ask your name?"

The elf wanted to bite his tongue, to say nothing, but every fiber told him to answer or else. 

"Amarth Mahariel." There was a pause before he said, "your Highness."

But the king kept smiling, which made Amarth want to dig a blade in him. "Then I personally welcome you, Amarth, and congratulate you on becoming a Grey Warden." A pause, this time by the king. "Say, those markings are those of the Dalish, are they not? Are you Dalish?" Cailan asked.

Amarth almost _growled,_ the word _Dalish_ making him physically sick. 

"I was Dalish, King Cailan," Amarth said. "I haven't been with my clan in a decade." 

The king shem frowned. "Why is that?"

Questions, questions, questions, and they were all for Amarth. Were all shems nosey? 

The elf sighed. "I was taken from my clan as a child and sold as a slave," he said, no emotion. Maybe the shem would leave him alone. But the king didn't leave him alone yet.

"Maker! You have my dearest apologies, Amarth. I promise that the Lord or Lady who-"

"They're dead, your Highness," Duncan said, stepping in. "I found bodies that looked to be mauled by an animal just before finding Amarth alone."

Amarth crossed his arms, feeling a bit of pride of being the hand to end his old master. The one thing he regretted was not being able to remember it. But he was happy that Duncan didn't lead on that Amarth was the one to kill them. A murderer probably wasn't what he wanted to be known as.

King Cailan nodded at the Warden before looking to the elf. "If there is anything I can do to make sure you are comfortable while you're here, do not hesitate to ask. The Wardens are held with high regards, so you will be respected with the same treatment."

"Appreciated, your Highness," Amarth said. The two shems talked a bit more, but the elf wasn't listening to it. He heard a thing or two about the Blight, but it didn't strike his interest. He wanted to become a Warden and do whatever was next for him. 

It was when the king was walking away that Amarth looked at Duncan.

"The king mentioned the Blight, didn't he? Is this a Blight?" Amarth asked, following Duncan across the bridge.

"Cailan doesn't believe it to be a Blight, much to his disappointment. There hasn't been any sign of an archdemon, but I wouldn't be surprised if one appeared." Duncan sighed. The elf felt bad that Duncan wasn't being listened to.

The elf sighed. "What would you have the king do?" He asked. 

"Wait for reinforcements," he said. "We should wait for the Wardens from Orlais to assist in our efforts. But the king refuses to listen." There was a pause. "For now, you need to be worried with what comes next; the Joining."

"The what?"

"The Joining. I can't say much more than that this is what makes a Grey Warden a Grey Warden," Duncan said at the end of the bridge. Amarth nodded.

"You will need for find our newest recruit, Alistair. He should be in the eastern part of the hold. You're free to look around camp before finding him. There are two other recruits here and a smithy. Find me once you have found Alistair." Duncan started to walk away. Amarth stood and watched the shem walk away. If free had a definition to Amarth, this wasn't exactly it.

 

"You there, elf!"

Amarth turned and scowled, looking at the shem smith. 

"Where's my armor?" He demanded. The elf raised his eyebrow. Who was this man?

"Your what?" Amarth demanded. 

"The armor I asked for? Where is it?" The smith asked again, walking to the elf and starting to raise his hand. Amarth wouldn't stand for it.

"I'm not one of your servants, shem! I'm here to be a Grey Warden!" He growled. That made the human smith drop his hand and stop, his features turning to resemble fear.

"O-Oh, oh," he stuttered. "My apologies, Warden. You elves all look a like and I've been waiting for some time for the repaired armor-"

"You should treat your workers as people, shem, and not animals. Have some blighted respect for them," Amarth interrupted. The smith apologized again and offered Amarth is wares. Amarth declined. He needed to find Alistair. He had already met Jory and Daveth, hating them both, and needed to find the final man.

 

"... And I will not be disrespected in such a way!"

"I'm disrespecting you?"

Amarth watched a man in armor arguing with a man in a robe. The scene was comical, but the elf hoped that the armored man was Alistair. He didn't like mages, having not met one besides Keeper Marethari and Merrill, but the idea of them made him nervous. And Ceylon was showing signs of magic, which made Amarth even more uncomfortable. 

The argument continued on until the Mage decided to leave, nearly hitting Amarth, demanding him to move. The elf nearly growled at him, ready to stick him with a dagger, but didn't. Duncan wouldn't like that.

"I just love how the Blight brings everyone together," the armored man said. The elf snorted. 

"Truly?" Amarth asked.

"Me and that mage there? Some good bonding over the Blight because the Wardens need the mages and the Chantry doesn't like that," the man said, smiling."

"A shame," Amarth said. "Your Chantry should respect the wishes of the Wardens."

"Your?" The man asked. Suddenly, as if it wasn't the first thing anyone else noticed about Amarth, the man said, "you're an- right. Dalish. Don't believe in the Maker."

Amarth groaned. "I'm not Dalish."

"And I'm not Alistair," the man, Alistair, said. The elf didn't laugh, which made Alistair shift his weight. "Oh, you were serious?" The nod Amarth have made Alistair blush. "Then what's the-"

"Vallaslin, the blood markings of the Dalish. I was Dalish," Amarth said. 

"Was?" Alistair asked. Amarth nodded and added nothing else. 

"Then that makes you the recruit Duncan wrote about then? Ama... How do you say your name?" Alistair asked, his blush starting to go away. The elf relaxed a little. Not a lot, but enough.

"Amarth Mahariel," Amarth said. Alistair offered his hand, but the elf didn't take it. Slowly and awkwardly, the human lowered it.

"Right," he said. "I'm sorry about all the questioning. I mean, you can ask me-"

"No need," Amarth said flatly. There was a part of Amarth that wanted to hate Alistair, to send a dagger through his chest and walk away. But another part of him almost felt bad for him. He was young, looked younger than himself. And he was just curious, or at least seemed curious. He seemed a bit like Duncan. Duncan didn't want to harm Amarth, just learn about him. Alistair seemed the same way, but the elf just didn't know what he could offer him to know without being judged. If he was anything like Jory, Amarth would probably slap him. Jory was too uptight, too _noble,_ to like. Daveth was too sneaky, shifty, and the flirting he witnessed made him uncomfortable. He wouldn't trust Daveth to share a camp with him. But Alistair, for the time, didn't seem like either of them. 

"Duncan asked me to find you so that we can prepare for whatever the Joining is," Amarth said. The man seemed to understand what that meant.

"Oh! Yeah, I'll be accompanying you and the two other recruits into the Wilds. And then I'll be at your Joining. Old traditions and stuff. Have you met the other recruits yet?" Amarth nodded to Alistair's question. That pleased the human. "Then that means we need to see Duncan then. He should be-"

"By the kennels. I seen him while I was exploring a bit," Amarth interrupted. Alistair nodded. 

"Then that's where we're off to. Let's go then. I don't want to be in the Wilds more than we need to be."

"Why?" The elf asked.

"Darkspawn, that's why," Alistair said, physically shivering from the single word.


End file.
